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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26732329">Brittle and Bitter Bones</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitterleafs/pseuds/bitterleafs'>bitterleafs</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Blood and Injury, Buried Alive, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Gen, Jason Todd Deserves Better, well i mean kind of?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:46:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,077</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26732329</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitterleafs/pseuds/bitterleafs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason's death and subsequent resurrection.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Brittle and Bitter Bones</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>We were talking about Jason dying in the Waynes server and I figured I might as well post this now since I've been sitting on it.</p><p>Undertow - Stars</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Instead of music, the air filled with the sounds of flesh being beaten, of bones being broken. Jason found some solace in the rhythm of the hits, a steady beat. </p><p>
  <em>Thump, crack, thud, whack. </em>
</p><p>The sounds strung together with a manic laughter filling up the spaces between. Then the rhythm changed and he had to search for the new one, his brain trying desperately to cling to some pattern, some logic, some reason for it all.</p><p>
  <em>Thud, whack, crack, thump. </em>
</p><p>Was this his fault? He should have listened to Bruce. He should have, he knew he should have. Dick would have listened. But his mom. His mom. Was she okay? He was trying to save her from Joker, did she get away? That’s all that really mattered. It was all worth it if she got away. It would be worth it.</p><p>
  <em>Whack, thud.</em>
</p><p>He held his breath, waiting for the next hit but it didn’t come. Had it been a minute since the last hit or an hour? Time stopped having any real meaning at some point, he’s not sure when. It didn’t matter. The floor was sticky where he laid, broken. Syrup? No, blood. His blood. <em>Shit. </em>Was he waiting for something? He couldn’t remember.</p><p>Mom. His mom. Was she safe? Had this been worth it? </p><p>The music was replaced by some persistent noise that dug into Jason’s skull. There had been music, right? Now it was a beeping, and a yelling. Was his alarm going off? Why was his bed sticky? <em>No, focus! </em>Not a bed, not an alarm. He had to get up, find who’s yelling. Maybe they needed help. He had to help them. He was Robin and helping people was what he did.</p><p>
  <em>Beep, beep, beep.</em>
</p><p>Moving hurt more than anything he’d ever experienced. He couldn’t fully get up. Had he been hit by a train? <em>No, a crowbar. </em>He hadn’t thought crowbars would hurt that much. He crawled along the slick floor- <em>not syrup- </em>until he found the yelling. His mom. She wasn’t supposed to be here still. Why hadn’t she left? Had to save her. She was yelling but it was hard to hear over the music- <em>no- </em>the beeping. </p><p>She yelled, <em>No time! </em>Why was there no time? Did time even mean anything anymore?</p><p>
  <em>Beep, beep, beep.</em>
</p><p>He found the beeping, found the clock. Time returned to him in a rush. The clock ticked down. Everything made sense. He was running out of time. He had to save his mom, had to make this worth it. He couldn’t disarm the bomb, not like this. Too hurt, too slow. Where was Batman? He would come, save the day. Saving the day was what Batman did. </p><p>
  <em>Beep, beep.</em>
</p><p>He couldn’t just wait. What would Dick do? He’d save the day. <em>So, save the day. </em>He had to move, get up and untie her. Everything hurt. Everything was sticky and wet. Some of his limbs weren’t working right. Was that supposed to worry him? It just made things difficult. The rope slid beneath his blood-soaked hands as he tried to untie it. He wanted to cry. </p><p>He tried again instead. </p><p>
  <em>Beep. </em>
</p><p>His mom slipped free. He was making this worth it, he was saving her. All she had to do was get out the door and she’d be free.<em> Go! </em>But she wouldn’t leave, not without him. The door was so far away. Jason’s heart hurt and he wasn’t sure how much of it was real. She wouldn’t leave him. She wouldn’t leave. They were so close, they were at the door. <em>It’s locked! </em>No time. </p><p>Batman wasn’t coming, but it was okay.</p><p>It was too late. </p>
<hr/><p>Everything had been so loud and so bright. Then? There was nothing at all. Had he gone deaf? Blind? Both? He was pretty sure his eyes were open but there was only darkness. Slowly, a strange noise began to fill the silence. Not deaf after all. Some kind of wheezing? Was that him? His breathing? It hurt to breathe. </p><p>Everything hurt. Why did everything hurt?</p><p>He started to panic. Where was he? What had happened? His arms struck out in a frenzy and immediately hit something. A scream tore through him as pain lanced down his arms. He felt along the walls, searching for something, anything to help him make sense of things. It was soft, covered in some plush fabric, surrounding him completely. He was closed in. Closed in what? <em>Think!</em></p><p>What did he last remember? He had to remember something. Why had everything been loud and bright? His memories kept floating away, fragmented. He tried reaching for them but his fingers only caught at the jagged edges. Trails of blood trickled down his hands, bringing small flashes of recollection with them. The strange music. A crowbar hanging in the air. His mom. <em>Is she okay? </em>The slippery rope. A clock counting in reverse.</p><p>
  <em>Put it all together now. </em>
</p><p>The shards crashed back down, piercing his skin.</p><p>Batman hadn’t come, the warehouse exploded. Was he dead? </p><p>Jason had thought death would be painless. If this was death, he wanted a refund. If he was dead... was this a coffin? The plush satin of the walls, the shape of the box... <em>No!</em> Terror clawed up his throat, ripping out a frantic, broken scream. He had to get out of here. <em>Let me out!</em> He felt around for something, anything he could use to dig his way out. There was nothing. Batman- <em>Bruce</em>- had left him with nothing. No proof he was ever Robin. He dug, clawed, kicked, and punched. Every movement hurt. It didn’t matter.<em> Out! Get out!</em></p><p>He screamed and cried. Then he was out.</p><p>He had no fingernails, no voice left by the time he was free. He had nothing. Pain had become more of a vague suggestion rather than a fact, leaving him numb. Should that worry him? It didn’t matter. Why did they bury him? Why was he still alive? Didn’t matter. He had to find Bruce, find <em>home </em>. That’s all that mattered.</p><p>He began walking.</p>
<hr/><p>Words had lost all meaning at some point, nothing had meaning anymore. Everything blurred together. He knew nothing. He felt nothing.</p><p>The next thing he knew was green, all consuming green. </p><p>The next thing he felt was burning and drowning all at once.</p><p>Was this death? He had been alive, right? And then he died. Was he dying again? </p><p>He was fucking <em>done</em> with dying.</p>
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